


Share the Pulse

by Urbanvix



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Frottage, M/M, Master/Pet, Safe Sane and Consensual, eroticised blood drinking, mostly goodboy Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urbanvix/pseuds/Urbanvix
Summary: Years after the epidemic, Dr Reid and Sean Hampton have come to a better understanding of the intimate link between Ekon and Skal, Maker and Progeny. Away from their respective responsibilities, they share a little comfort, a little warmth and a little more.A little standalone of an intimate encounter between blue-eyed / mostly blue-eyed Reid and Sean.  Written for me when I needed some happy. Sharing with you all in case you do too.Pure smut. Pure fluff. Pure... fluffsmut? Basically the tamest thing I've written, but that's pretty relative XD
Relationships: Sean Hampton/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 1
Kudos: 54





	Share the Pulse

**Author's Note:**

> Dealing with bad memories tonight and it seems empathising with Sean has become a really healthy place for me to turn to when I'm down in the dark. So, time for something a bit more blue-eyed.
> 
> Just gonna type and see where this goes. If you're reading this, I decided it was okay to share, but I anticipate typos at least !

"Are you sure, Sean?”  
  
Ten years since the epidemic, ten years since their paths had first collided and Jonathan still did not know whether asking again was the right thing to do. He knew that he did not have to. His blood told him that he did not have to. So many times, Sean had **told** him that he did not need to.  
  
Given how their relationship had started, Jonathan had fretted... and fretted... that Sean only trusted him because he had bound him somehow, on the night he had forced him to drink his blood.

Again and again, in his peaceful and patient tones, Sean had promised that there was far more reason than that. From time to time, he had said it in moments very much like this one, lying half naked and entwined with Jonathan curled around the Skal's smaller body, simply comforting one another with the certainty that they were not alone. Precious moments, with the Skal's slow heartbeat and warmth drifting into him, returning the second-hand sensations of living to his own long body.  
  
Sean adopted those tones now, as he titled up to kiss under Jonathan's chin, breathing warm air into his beard. “Yes, Jonathan. I am sure.”

“If you want me to stop at any time,” He answered, whispering into Sean's soft wiry hair. “You need only say so.”  
  
“I promise you, doctor, that I will.” Sean murmured, as Jonathan uncurled behind him and slid down, edging along the sofa.

Gently, so gently, using the time to be sure of his own restraint, Jonathan kissed the fragile skin behind his ear. Sean sighed, contentedly and tilted his head sideways and back, exposing the curve of his neck for Jonathan's next kiss. As the Ekon's cool lips brushed the damaged skin, Sean whimpered, softly, eagerly.

Neither of them were human. They both wanted things they would never have wished for in life. Jonathan did not know whether he deserved Sean's affection, but he was glad of it.

Again, he went carefully. Kissing the little Skal open-mouthed, but softly. At the slight graze of his fangs, Sean squirmed involuntarily, whimpering again. It tested his restraint utterly.  
  
To be sure of himself, Jonathan closed his mouth and made the next kiss as chaste as he could. As always, he brought his left hand around Sean's biceps, reading his pulse and blood pressure through the bare skin.  
  
“Please.” Sean whimpered. “Please, Master.”  
  
“I told you,” Jonathan answered, his own false breath shuddering, “Not to call me that.”  
  
Sean panted as he kissed him again, 'punishing' his Skal with the soft graze of his fangs. They had discussed all this as well, so many times.

So Jonathan felt no shame at the thrill when Sean whimpered again, “Forgive me.”  
  
“I do.” Jonathan whispered, not fighting the growl that rose in his chest, letting his fangs sing down to fill his mouth. “I do forgive you, _my_ _Skal.”_

Sean trembled in his arms, pinching his lips together to keep from saying it again. His pulse throbbed heavily against Jonathan's lips, against his teeth and – at last – against the tips of his fangs as they pierced the fragile skin and slid down, deep down into the jugular.

Sean gasped, very softly, then moaned as Jonathan sealed his lips to the skin and drew.  
  
Blood. Warm and willing. Rich and thick. Oh, it rolled into Jonathan's mouth like a slow river, bringing life with it; warming his throat, stirring his dead heart to beating. He rocked softly against his Skal's body; a slave to the pleasure of feeding.

They were slaves to each other; willing and wanton beyond anything they had known in life. They both knew it. They had passed through being afraid of it.

Jonathan withdrew his fangs carefully, cleanly, making sure that the vein would pinch shut. Sean mewed when he kissed him again, drifting his tongue over to clean away the pinpricks of blood.

“My wonderful Skal.” Jonathan whispered, drifting on the blood-high. Sean sobbed at the praise and his skin prickled with goosebumps against Jonathan's flesh. “You did so well.”  
  
Sean mewed again; a soft, hungry sound, like a kitten.  
  
“Yes,” Jonathan said, resting his nose against the crook of Sean's neck and breathing in the honest, earthy scents of his servant. “Come.”

Carefully, reverently, Sean disentangled himself from Jonathan's long arms, just enough to roll over. He curled back against him, now chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin. Sean all-but vibrated in anticipation, but he held back. His Skal could not help but treat Jonathan's body with abject reverence.

Never knowing why they both loved it so, Jonathan ran his fingers down along Sean's jaw and under his chin, drawing his Skal up. He released him only once it was possible to replace those fingers with his lips, treasuring his precious skal, his immortal servant, his devoted slave.  
  
Looping his arm around Sean's shoulders, Jonathan let a single talon slide from the tip of his forefinger and pressed it against his own neck.  
  
“Wait.”

Sean trembled. His pale eyes fixed on the claw-tip. Jonathan pressed it down slowly, slowly, until a single bead of blood broke the surface.

Sean whimpered and bit his lip.

“Good, my Skal.” Jonathan whispered. “Now...” He drove the talon deep and drew it back. Sean was rigid; all his attention on the single point, his irises pinning down to tiny dots as he waited, waited, waited for his Master's word.  
  
“Drink.”

With a little cry of relief, Sean fell against him, kissing the wound, lapping at it and finally sealing his lips around it and drawing hard. Jonathan's heart leapt into ragged rhythm, pulled to a pulse by the cyclical tug as Sean drew, and swallowed, and drew again. The pleasure bent both of them around it and grew hard in the space between them.

They had discussed this as well. Discussed it before because now, there was no stopping it.

In time with the tug of Sean's mouth and lips, Jonathan rocked against his Skal. It was Sean's blood that warmed his groin and stiffened his cock. It was Sean's own pleasure that he rutted against, feeling the Skal's moan through the skin of his neck. It was an inhuman thing; an animal thing, driving together so hard that he saw stars and then, at last, supernova as the feedback between Maker and Progeny bled over.  
  
Jonathan roared as the pleasure dragged him up to the pinnacle. Abruptly, he was rutting hard against Sean, clutching his Skal to him to drive them both to the breaking point of that relentless pressure.  
  
Right at the moment, right at the point where control was untenable and all that existed was Sean's laving tongue and the desperate, racing thrusts...

...Sean _growled._

With a wounded cry, Jonathan came undone completely. Sean shuddered barely a moment later, then whimpered and crumpled into his arms.  
  
The dampness spread between them; a perfume to their inhuman senses. All Jonathan was, after all, was blood, which always left a strangely pleasant outcome to their shameful rutting. They never smelled of sour sweat or sex, only fragrant with the potent power of his lineage.

One day, maybe in another ten years, they'd follow that to its natural conclusion.  
  
For now, Jonathan laid back, wrapping his arms around his precious skal. They lay together, sharing the connection, sharing the blood, sharing the serenity that blossomed between a Maker and their Progeny.   
  
For now, that was more than enough.


End file.
